


I Think About You All The Time

by aqua_vitae



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-19 00:44:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9410015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aqua_vitae/pseuds/aqua_vitae
Summary: Yixing thinks about Jongdae a lot.





	

_Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday Saturday Sunday_

_Every every day I think of you_

_Do you think of me?_

**_You're The Best - Mamamoo_ **

 

  Mondays are days to fall in love over and over. Jongdae would intentionally snuggle into his chest as if to beg for a few more minutes of sleep after his alarm sounds as if he doesn't know that Yixing would never be able to not indulge in him. "Hey, sleepyhead," he says, and Jongdae replies with a groan. "Time to get up." Jongdae rolls onto his back and looks at him through half-lidded eyes. A smile lights up his face, and suddenly Yixing's heart does not work anymore. He leans over and kisses him.

  "Morning," Jongdae mumbles against his lips, and it is the most amazing thing he has ever heard. His chest constricts and he is short of breath.

  "Morning," he wheezes, and _he_ sounds terrible.

  "I don't want to get up."

  "Then don't," he says.

  "Just kidding," Jongdae laughs lightly, "I have work to go to. And so do you."

  Yixing peppers kisses onto Jongdae's cheek, and he reaches out for a hug. "I love you," he says, the most convenient words of encouragement, as Jongdae steps out of the door. He starts and looks back, moving back in and asking for another kiss with his eyes. Yixing melts right there and then, and he holds out his arms, feeling his smaller frame in his embrace, kissing him soft and slow. Jongdae blinks at him when they pull back, searching his face with darting pupils.

  "I love you," he tells him back, which also happen to be the simplest words of gratitude.

 

  Tuesdays are days to be preoccupied, with his eyelashes that cast shadows over pronounced cheekbones. With his lovely snark and adoration in his voice that he never minds the biting choice of words (much to Jongdae's disappointment). At some times he wants to tell Jongdae that he's not _slow_ , just distracted by other things. But he'd ask what they were, and it is not going to be a good question to answer.

  He always want Jongdae to be the one to handle things in the kitchen, so he could watch his side profile and take his time to memorise every line and plane of his body while he is busy, though Jongdae insists he cooks better. Sometimes he has Jongdae stay with him, caging him in front and leaning on his shoulder. Jongdae's hands with then find his because he had nothing to do, and he'd wrap Jongdae's fingers in his, around the chopsticks he was holding. It took practice, not to let them slip into the pan, but Yixing prides himself in bragging to Luhan that they've perfected that skill.

  Jongdae complains. He complains a lot throughout the whole process, but Yixing doesn't care, because he never escapes from it. Never once in all the times he has told Yixing that it wasn't necessary, the smoke was attacking his face, or that he's suspecting he was using him as a shield from the oil, had he pulled away. Instead, he leans back and pulls Yixing's free arm around his waist. It is good for Yixing, because at least one of them is paying enough attention to notice that the food is burning.

 

  Wednesdays are days to miss him. Yixing is reminded that he hasn't had a full day with Jongdae since three days ago and he is agitated. Even when Jongdae shows up at seven in time for dinner he still feels like there is not enough of him. He traces the bow of Jongdae's mouth and he nips at his fingers when he gets the chance, and Yixing pinches the bridge of his nose in retaliation.

  "I miss you," he says, knowing full well it is not what he should say, when Jongdae only next to him. But he can't help it.

  "I miss you too," Jongdae replies, putting the last of the bowls on their rack. He wipes his hands cheekily on Yixing's shirt and pauses long enough to hold his hand. "But I'm right here, no?"

  It always ends like this: Jongdae squeezing in under the spray with him, or him doing the same. He knows well enough to keep everything unlocked now if Jongdae decides to pay a sudden visit to his shower, he actually has for a long time. And it's sparked something warm in his stomach when Jongdae pushes him into the bathroom first instead of him pulling Jongdae who had to at least act reluctant.

 

  Thursdays are days to offer himself to be leant on. "Rough day?" he'll ask as Jongdae comes home with a face he wants to kiss the worry and stress away from. Jongdae will shake his head, but he knows. It makes his heart ache to see Jongdae's brows furrow, so he puts two fingers between them, and smooths them out.

  "Just one more day to go, darling," he'll say in his best good-husband voice.

  Sometimes on the worse days, Jongdae will purse his lips or bite them and look at him with watery eyes. And most of the time Yixing breaks and becomes angry at no one in particular (namely the whole world), because Jongdae must have been terribly wronged to put on that face. At the end of the day Jongdae soothes him and tells him he is just tired and Yixing has to put aside his wrongly conceived ideas and anger.

  "I'm so tired," Jongdae will repeat again and again, a mantra, his voice just above a whisper, but Yixing can hear it well because it is just the two of them in the house, and all he has ever paid attention to is him. Yet he still insists on sleeping only when Yixing does, so Yixing never stays up. He tucks Jongdae into bed after they brush their teeth, after he almost falls asleep standing in front of the sink. He used to get up after Jongdae drops into his slumber but it always seemed to wake him for some reason, so he doesn't anymore, opting to wake a little earlier than he does to help iron his work shirt.

 

  Fridays are days for alcohol and impulse. They get drunk sometimes on the vanished liquor from a few empty soju bottles or the beer cans lying haphazardously on the floor and table, or in the bar where they get tequila shots to celebrate the end of the weekdays. But the only thing that throws Yixing's mind off track is the sweet haze of Jongdae's voice, with only the desperate dark of his eyes that will guide him back. Jongdae's voice is a gentle gin, smooth and sneakily intoxicating. He passes his hands over him, all delicate and careful, and gets rough kisses and sharp caresses that drive him insane. "I won't break, Yixing," he tells him every time.

  But he is a treasure, and he ought to be prudent with him. "I know," he will say in return, "I love you." _So I won't ever let you fall apart_ , he leaves it unsaid, because he must know. When Jongdae basks in a blissful afterglow and gives him a tired grin Yixing aligns his chest to his back and tells him to catch on with some well-deserved sleep he has not had throughout the week.

  "I wonder whose little cat has sharp claws," Luhan would say if he saw him after, glancing at the thin angry red marks on Yixing's neck that not even an upturned collar could hide. He'd smile, and hum in reply.

 

  Saturdays are days of little things. Oddly enough, both of them are not as hungover and they thought they should be. Yixing wakes Jongdae up with a coffee, with a little sugar and milk, the way he likes it. Jongdae will prompt him to try some, promising him he would love it. Every time Yixing takes a sip from that dreaded cup he wishes he hadn't. Yet he still does when his eyes meet Jongdae's hopeful ones. Because he is insufferable.

  Before the sun reaches its highest point in the sky and it's not too hot out, they sometimes take a stroll in the nearby park ("Like an old couple," Yixing likes to say. And it will earn him a snapped  _Hey, you can be old on your own, I'm not_ and a  _I'm fabulous_ if he's lucky, even though it doesn't strengthen Jongdae's point of being young) but mostly they stay in and play videogames.

  Jongdae wins the majority or their duels and Yixing will say that he is going easy on him, but truthfully he also knows Jongdae is better than him at it. At night they as they lay on their bed, kicking their legs up in the air, Jongdae tells him, "We've wasted a day again." So he says what is on his mind. It is a joy in itself, wasting away a day. Especially with someone you love.

 

  Sundays are days to realize. That he is hell-bent, dead set on Jongdae, when he wakes up to a sleeping smile, comfortably contained in his arms. That he would fall again and again to him, head over heels. He runs his fingers through newly dyed chocolate hair, a lot smitten. "Whipped," Yifan would say if he saw. But it was not like he isn't himself, only over Joonmyun. 

   Every time Jongdae looks at him he realizes how much meaning a lover's gaze can carry. And he is a little bewildered. So that is the way he looks at Jongdae. ...Is it? So maybe, it is easy to see how much he loves Jongdae, because he can definitely see it returned. In the way his eyes lights up to see him, as if it held all the stars in the sky and looked at him as though he were the moon.

  "I love you, Kim Jongdae," he says, his voice cracking a little under all the emotion he is trying tell him of.

  "Say it to the world then, Zhang," Jongdae laughs into the night air.

  Yixing pulls him a little closer, and a little more. "I love you, Jongdae," he whispers, "I love you so, so much."

 

 

  Because my world is you, and no one else.


End file.
